


Every song is a love song

by callmenewbie



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 80's Music, First Kiss, Future Fic, M/M, Mindless Fluff, kind of a slice of life, like a middle chapter of a non-existent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmenewbie/pseuds/callmenewbie
Summary: Billy gets obsessed with a song, Steve doesn't seem to mind it.~Just a sweet little fic for the promt 'First Kiss'.





	Every song is a love song

Every song is a love song. At least that was the conclusion Steve was making. Even if it didn’t seemed like it at first, there was always a line that suggested that the song was about falling in or out of love, about variations of different types of romantic or sexual or both kind of relationships. He didn’t have a problem with that of course, but the idea was solid.

So then it surprised him, when Billy showed him his new favourite song. It wasn’t a new song per se, he owned the album for a couple of years now, but he just started to listen to it again and for some reason this song stuck.

“This is not a love song,” he stated proudly, as they were leaning to the side of the Camaro, smoking, while the music beamed out of the car somewhat louder than comfortable. Steve hummed in thought, but his voice got lost in the song.

“C'mon, say it. I finally found one,” he was smiling, just a bit mean.

“Did you go through your tapes to find one, just to prove me wrong?” Steve asked in disbelief, while letting some smoke escape his lips.

“Admit it.” Billy said it instead of an answer, which really was an answer good enough for Steve.

He mentioned his theory of songs about a month ago to Billy, who was eager to find one, that wasn’t a love song, but failed to do so then and apparently he became obsessed with the idea to prove him wrong ever since.

“Fine,” he dropped the cigarette butt to the concrete. “It’s not a love song.”

Billy’s grin stretched from ear to ear and Steve’s heart felt like a deflated balloon in his chest.

Time to time he remembered how he was before, all the rough edges, sharp words and painful punches Steve had to endure from him, before they had no chance, but to lean on each other for survival. The monsters were long gone, but somehow Billy stayed in his life. And he couldn’t find it in himself to protest. So gradually, after months and years they’ve became friends, then best friends. Although he was sure that Billy would rather fight five grown ass demodogs, than to use that word. But Steve’s got a special view behind his walls, that no one else could get and that made up for everything else.

“Let’s get inside, it’s fucking freezing here,” said Billy and leaned through the window to pull the key out of the ignition and stop the music.

“Might not feel so cold, if you’d put a coat on time to time,” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy was wearing only his work shirt with a tight pair of jeans. “It’s like twenty degrees out here.” Giving emphasis to his words, he crossed his arms over his chest. Billy just shrugged, but Steve didn’t miss the tiny shiver in the motion.

They went inside and while Steve made some popcorn at the stove, Billy dropped down on the couch with a beer. Today was movie night and that meant watching some stupid horror movie and criticise it throughout the entire time.

Steve put the popcorn into a big bowl and that between them on the couch. It was still the end of the last movie, which - Steve reckoned - could be either a documentary about trains or the most boring action in history.

Until it started, they had a quiet conversation, about their days and weekend plans, then they commented on the _costume_ that supposed to be a monster from the swamps, they compared it to demodogs and laughed at it darkly. They did this often, it was a way of coping, Steve guessed. They rarely talked about the night of the monsters, but there were times, when looking into each other’s eyes they knew what the other thought, but they never really said anything. Like it was nothing serious, like Billy didn’t almost die or got the shit kicked out of him by his dad for taking Max home late and like they were normal teenagers and now normal adults, who picked on cheesy movies and threw popcorn at the screen.

Steve didn’t like to think about all of these stuff, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. Back then losing Billy would be kind of sad, but thinking about it now, it would be unbearable.

Billy looked up when he realised that Steve stopped talking minutes ago and when he looked at his lips pressed in a thin line, then into his eyes, he knew. Billy furrowed his brows, but he just patted Steve’s knee and got up to go to the kitchen for another beer.

 

A few days later Steve was mopping the floor and ready to close the diner, when that song came through the radio. He never even heard it before Billy showed it to him, and now it was playing? That’s life, probably.

He thought about giving a call to him, when he got home, but then realised what would he say? “Your favourite song was on the radio”? That’d be such a stupid thing to call for, Billy would laugh at him for days. Not like he’s not gonna see him tomorrow anyways.

Billy rented his own apartment, a small, but comfortable one on the edge of town, but he didn’t use it much, as he was at Steve’s more often than not, Steve gave him the keys to the house two years ago in case of _emergency_ , but since then he was practically living there. And Steve didn’t really mind the company.

 

Billy was listening to the song all the time now, in his car, in their- _Steve’s_ living room on the stereo and Steve suspected that he didn’t like the song as much, as the fact that he could prove him wrong. He didn’t quite understand the sentiment, as he was right most of the time, even if Steve didn’t like to admit it.

On Friday night Billy stayed over, like usually, but on Saturday he left for work before Steve. When he woke up, he found a tape on the kitchen counter with a sticky note, reading: _I got you a copy._

Steve smiled in disbelief, because in Billy’s language it just kind of meant ‘told you so’. He pocketed the cassette nonetheless.

Billy’s musical taste was pretty different from Steve’s, well Steve liked to say different, Billy called it garbage. This was not really something he’d normally listen to, yet somehow he found himself listening to the album in his car day by day, when driving for work or going to the shop. He still didn’t like the song, but it reminded him of Billy. And he kinda liked that aspect of it.

 

Seemingly even after a month Billy didn’t get bored of the album and especially that song, so naturally when they were sitting outside in the garden, in this late spring night of April, they had to listen to it. Billy made a great effort dragging all the cables outside, so he can power the stereo near the slide doors. Steve worried that at this rate the tape might get worn out sooner or later. Probably sooner.

They were sitting by the pool, with beers in their hands and looking at the shimmering lights mirrored in the water. They shared a cigarette and Steve wondered once again how different it was before and would be now, if not for that night when the monsters came. Now they were gone and life went on, the kids continued school, they were working adults, but nothing much changed really. Hawkins was the same, his parents moved away though, but it didn’t really make much of a difference for Steve. Billy moved away from home too. His relationship with his dad and stepmom well… it was non-existent now, but he talked to Max every now and again, mostly when they went out or the kids came over. A lot of things stayed pretty much the same, the only thing really changed is the way he looked at Billy now.

“What’s on your mind, Harrington?” Billy asked and his voice was soft, almost melting into the music.

“Nothing, I- I just thought about. About things, like how stuff changed after. After you know,” he made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Yeah” he said with a bitter face and took a sip of his beer, then put the can down on the ground, just beside his boots. He leaned back on his chair and blown some smoke towards the sky, then held out the cigarette for Steve without looking.

“You think about that often?” He asked after about a minute.

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Do you regret it?” He asked, but when Steve didn’t answer, he just licked over his bottom lip, then added: “Do you regret coming back for me?”

Steve thought about it for a second. He remembered how Billy used to bully the kids, how badly he beat him up and then he thought about the blood, the growling and the fear in those impossibly blue eyes. Then the months and years after that. The times Billy passed out on his couch after work, before he made up a room for him. The drunken talks, the almost intimate silences.

There was a pause between the songs.

“No.”

Billy just nodded.

“Do _you_ think about these things?” Steve asked, while getting out of the chair and walking towards the pool, he looked at the glistening water and his curly silhouette in it.

“Yeah.”

“You think it’d be different if I don’t know, that night didn’t happen? I mean, for us.” He chewed on his bottom lip.

“Like would we be friends, huh?” Steve turned around and looked over to Billy, who was getting out of his chair, his beer abandoned.

Now both of them stood by the pool, painted all over with the reflection of the moonlight.

“Mm” he nodded while the first few seconds of Dio’s Holy Diver started to buzz from the stereo.

“No,” he said without hesitation and for some reason it hurt Steve just a pinch, even though he was probably right. “But it did happen. So it’s pointless to think about shit like that.” He shrugged way too casually.

“I guess,” Steve mumbled, his voice got mixed with the first few words of the song. He couldn’t really look into Billy’s eyes right now, so instead he glared into the water.

May or may not be pointless, he won’t stop thinking about these stuff and he knew that Billy won’t either.

“Steve.” When he looked up, Billy was standing way closer than before, the tip of their shoes almost touching. He reached out and gently pulled Steve even closer by his elbows.

“What-?” He asked with a nervous laugh but Billy’s face remained serious.

“Come here” he said and at first Steve didn’t really understand, because _he was already there_ , but he'd never in all these years saw Billy’s face like this; no playfulness, no joking flirts or snarky comments. No rough edges. Just a smooth, smooth expression, focused eyes and stiff lips.

“I’m here,” he stated the obvious, merely whispering, but Billy didn’t laugh, instead he pulled him just a few inches closer, then tilted his head and leaned in.

Steve was, well, surprised to say the least. But pleasantly so. He didn’t know what else to do, than to kiss back. He never realised that he wanted this, and just- how did he not? Billy was always there and he just kind of grew used to it as it was, never thinking about what it could be. Never dare to wish for more, but now this, this was perfection. They fit together so well, their pace matched instantly, their tongues slid together like it was a composed piece of art.

Suddenly Steve smiled into the kiss, as he just realised that Holy Diver was still playing and although it was far away from being romantic or sexy by any means, it made Steve think about Billy and now anytime he’ll hear this song he’s gonna think about their first kiss. And that meant he was actually kind of right.

Every song is a love song. If you want it to be.

**Author's Note:**

> You've thought I won't even name the song, haven't you? Well, to be honest, I thought about it. (:  
> This was really fun to write, especially now that I'm working on a pretty stressful chapter for my other fic. It was a nice way to have a break and stay with the boys at the same time.


End file.
